The Business

Maybe, I thought, everything will have changed when I get back to Thuhn and make a few calls and send a few e-mails.  Stephen will have found out about Emma's infidelity, she'll have taken the children and he'll be winging his way to Thulahn, To Forget.  The Business would have suddenly discovered somewhere even better to buy, but donate billions to Thulahn, just to say thanks.

Somehow being away from all electronic contact, even if only for a few days, made this seem much more likely, as though there was a capacitance for change and difference in my life which was constantly being shorted away to ground by all the calls I made and e-mails I exchanged, but which, left alone for a while and allowed to charge up fully, would, when finally released, blast through all problems and light up all and any darkness.

Well, hoping is always easier than thinking.

I stayed up talking to the Prince a couple of nights over a whisky or two.  He talked about the long-mooted change to becoming a constitutional monarch, about better roads, schools and hospitals, about his love for Paris and London, about his affection for Uncle Freddy, and about all the changes that would inevitably ensue if — and when, because he talked about it as though it was unavoidable — the Business came in and took over his country.

'It is a Mephistophelean thing, what?' he said sadly, staring into the flames of the rest-house's sitting-room fire.  Everybody else had turned in for the night; there were just the two of us and a decanter of something peaty from Islay.

'Well,' I said, 'if you were thinking about this constitutional monarchy thing anyway, you aren't losing so much.  Maybe, in some ways, you gain.  The Business will probably prefer to deal with a single ruler than a chamber full of politicians, so remaining…' (I tried to think of a polite alternative to the word that had first occurred to me, but it had been a long day and I was tired, so I couldn't) '… undemocratic for as long as possible will suit them fine.  And any pressure for reform, well, they'll just buy that off with improvements if not outright bribes.  You should look on it as securing your position, Suvinder.'

'I did not mean for me, Kathryn,' he said, swirling his whisky round in his glass. 'I meant for the country, the people.'

'Oh.  I see.' Boy, did I feel shallow. 'You mean they don't get a say in whether all this happens.'

'Yes.  And I can't really tell them what it is that might happen.'

'Who does know?'

'The cabinet.  Rinpoche Beies has a sort of idea, and my mother managed to get wind of it too, somehow.'

'What do they all think?'

'My ministers are enthusiastic.  The Rinpoche is…hmm, indifferent is not the correct word.  Happy either way.  Yes.  My mother has only the vaguest notion, but despises the whole idea utterly.' He sighed heavily. 'I thought she would.'

'Well, she's a mother.  She just wants what's best for her boy.'

'Huh!' The Prince drained his glass.  He inspected it as though surprised to find it empty. 'I am going to have some more whisky,' he announced. 'Would you like to have some more whisky, Kathryn?'

'Just a little.  Very little…That's too much.  Never mind.'

'I think she blames me,' he said morosely.

'Your mother?  What for?'

'Everything.'

'Everything?'

'Everything.'

'What, like the Second World War, toxic shock syndrome, TV evangelists, the single "Achey Breakey Heart"?'

'Ha, but no.  Just for not having remarried.'

'Ah.' We hadn't — ever — touched on the subject of the Prince's short-lived marriage to the Nepali princess who'd died in the helicopter crash in the mountains, twenty years earlier. 'Well, one has to mourn,' I said.  'And then these things take time.' Platitudes, I thought.  But this was the sort of thing you felt. you had to say.  I read once that Ludwig Wittgenstein had no small-talk, no casual conversation at all.  How hellish.

Suvinder gazed at the flames.  'I was waiting to meet the right person,' the Prince told them.

'Well, hell, Prince.  Your mother can't blame you for that.'

'I think mothers have their own idea of original sin, to use the Christian term, Kathryn,' Suvinder said with a sigh. 'One is always guilty.' He glanced round towards the door.  'Always I wait for her to come through the door.  Any door, whenever I am in Thulahn, and sometimes when I am further afield, scolding me.'

'Well, she does seem kind of committed to her bed, Suvinder.'

'I know.' He shivered. 'That is what's so scary.'

He did touch me that evening, but only in a friendly, companionable way, taking my arm as we walked to our respective rooms.  No attempt at a kiss or anything.  Just as welclass="underline"   I was set for a struggle with that damn hammock, though once I was in it was very comfortable.

The next day was the last.  We headed back towards Thuhn on a fine, clear, cold day and had a picnic lunch in the ruins of the old monastery at Trisuhl.

Langtuhn Hemblu unpacked the little table and two chairs, set the places, arranged the food and brewed a pot of Earl Grey tea, then went off to visit a relation who lived nearby.

The trees growing within the walls rustled where their tops stuck out into the light breeze, and little rose finches and redstarts hopped and jumped around us, almost but not quite accepting morsels of food from my hand.  Choughs called out, their cries echoing in the empty shell of walls.

Suvinder chattered a little, and spilled some tea on the table, which was not like him.  I felt content and harmonious with everything.  I had mixed feelings about heading back to Thuhn and I was surprised to find that, while I was certainly looking forward to getting back to my e-mails and phones, if anything — given the chance — I'd have chosen to continue the tour round Thulahn.  But, then, it was a small country.  There was not much more to see, perhaps.  And I'd been lucky to have had the undivided attention of somebody with as many responsibilities and calls upon his time as the Prince.

It was the sort of time when it paid to remember what Mrs Telman had said, back in the hotel room at Vevey that night.  Appreciate at the time, enjoy the moment, count your blessings.

'Kathryn,' Suvinder said, placing his teacup down.  Somehow, I just knew we were suddenly in formal territory.

I turned from feeding the little birds to sit square and upright.  Plumped up in our thermal jackets, we faced each other across the little table.

'Your Highness,' I said.  I clasped my hands on the table.

He addressed them rather than my face. 'Have you enjoyed the last few days?'

'Immensely, Suvinder.  One of the best holidays I've ever had.'

He looked up, smiling. 'Really?'

'Of course really.  How about you?'

'What?'

'Have you enjoyed yourself?'

'Well, of course.'

'There you are, then.  Hurrah for us.'

'Yes.  Yes.' He was looking at my hands again. 'You have enjoyed my company, I hope?'

'Very much indeed, Prince.  You've been the perfect host.  I'm very grateful for your time.  I feel very…favoured.  I just hope your subjects don't resent me monopolising you for so long.'

He waved one hand dismissively. 'Good.  Good, I…I'm glad to hear that.  Very glad to hear that.  Kathryn, I…' He exhaled suddenly, an exasperated expression on his face, and sat back, slapping the table. 'Oh, this is no good.  I will come right out with it.' He looked me in the eye.